


I'm So Sorry

by ireallyhatecornnuts (CharleyFoxtrot)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10x21 coda, Canon-Compliant, Fix-it fic, Gen, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharleyFoxtrot/pseuds/ireallyhatecornnuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Charlie was here, alive, she’d make a joke about how Harry’d been right and <i>maybe the Mark was a horcrux</i>. But Charlie <i>isn’t</i> here. Her body, an empty shell, a <i>husk</i> of the person it used to contain, is all that remains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm So Sorry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onlybritainisgreat (frecklesarechocolate)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/gifts).



> I had to _fix it_.
> 
> Thanks to [cockteaseofthelord](http://cockteaseofthelord.tumblr.com/) for the beta.
> 
> As usual, you can find me at my tumblr, disease-danger-darkness-silence.tumblr.com.

No lies, and no deceiving, man is what he loves  
I keep trying to conceive that death is from above (no time)  
_I get mine and make no excuses, waste of precious breath(no time)_  
_The sun shines on everyone, everyone_  
**_Love yourself to death_ **

_So you gotta fire up, you gotta let go_  
_You’ll never be loved ‘til you make your own_  
_You gotta face up, you gotta get yours_  
_You never know the top ‘til you get to low_

– Imagine Dragons, “ _I’m So Sorry_ ”

 

Dean does the first thing he can think of: he calls Cas.

He’s actually surprised when the angel answers.

“ _Dean_?” Cas answers. He sounds panicked, and probably rightfully so. If he’d been colluding with Sam in this whole hiding-shit-from-Dean thing, which he obviously _had_ based on the phone call to alert them that _Charlie was missing_ , he has to know that this call has to do with this whole fucked-up mess.

“Charlie’s dead,” Dean blurts out. His voice is rough; Sam’s still puking on the other side of the Impala, wet splashing noises from the vomit hitting the pavement and probably echoing back through the phone call, but Dean got his horking done with pretty quick. Still, stomach acid is hell on the throat lining.

There’s an astonished pause. “ _What_?” Castiel replies.

“Charlie’s _dead_ ,” he reiterates. “The Stynes got to her.” He exhales, shakily. “Fuck, Cas, I –”

“Where are you? _Where is she_?” Cas sounds harsh over the phone, hurried, rushed.

“The Blackbird Motel, on Anderson,” Dean says. He can feel it, deep inside, welling up, the _grief_. It calms the Mark a little bit, and if Charlie was here, alive, she’d make a joke about how Harry’d been right and _maybe the Mark was a horcrux_. But Charlie _isn’t_ here. Her body, an empty shell, a _husk_ of the person it used to contain, is all that remains.

“I’ll be right there,” Castiel says. There’s someone shouting behind him, a woman, but the phone call ends before Dean can say anything about it.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Castiel makes record time, pulling up to the motel in about ten minutes, the gold of his Continental flashing under the neon lights. Sam’d finished up-chucking but now he’s sitting, stunned, next to the puddle, leaning against the Impala’s back door with his eyes closed and tears leaking out from beneath the lids. Dean’s pretty sure there’s puke in his hair and he wants to say something, _anything_ to get Sam riled up, but he remembers Kevin and how all of _Dean’s_ own mistakes led to the prophet’s death. He’s not going to bring it up right now – _later_ , he will, but not right now. Even though the Mark _wants_ him to, and the _anger_ does too, he’s not going to, because he knows with the certainty of a Winchester – Sam’s feeling enough guilt for the _both_ of them right now.

“Where?” Castiel asks. His voice is ragged, in a way that Dean hasn’t heard from the angel since they left him in a circle of holy fire, so many years ago.

Dean closes his eyes, inhales, and braces himself, before pushing off of the side of the Impala and leading Cas to Charlie’s motel room.

The signs of a struggle are obvious – the room’s been torn apart, all of Charlie’s things strewn about from that fucker lookin’ for the Book – which Charlie didn’t even _have_ –

Cas takes it all in before following Dean into the bathroom. It feels like a gut-punch all over again, and if Dean’s stomach weren’t already empty he’d be hurling. She looks so tiny, so _empty_. It’s _wrong_.

Cas lets out a sigh of relief, a complete counterpoint to the garish scene in front of them. “I’m not too late,” he says, striding toward her.

“Too late for _what_?”

“Her soul – it’s still here. There’s no brain death yet,” and Cas leans over the tub, propping himself down on the ground on one knee, ignoring the shattered glass and blood. “Her _body_ is dead, but her _brain_ isn’t, and the reaper hasn’t been able to take her to Heaven yet.” He reaches out, a familiar gesture, two fingers to the forehead, and –

The blood is gone. The hole in her stomach is repaired like it’d never been there. Cas’d even cleaned up the mess in the bathroom, like he knew they’d have to book it because someone _has_ to have called the cops by now. Charlie’s busted iPad is sitting on the lid of the toilet, good as new. The mirror is in one piece. Dean glances to the rest of the room – Charlie’s things are packed and sitting atop the bed. The bed is even made.

Hope is rising in his chest but he can’t believe it, _won’t_ believe it – it’s too good to be true. Gadreel did it once, and no one but Sam, Dean, and Castiel got more than one shot – hell, some didn’t even get _that_. This wasn’t the way the world worked.

There’s a sigh, and then Charlie’s eyes flutter open. “Cas?” she asks, her voice tiny and weak. Blood loss, maybe. “What’re _you_ doin’ here?”

Dean feels himself sagging against the door frame in relief.

 

*** * * * ***

 

The Stynes have _gotta_ be watching them.

Dean brings this up as Cas helps Charlie out of the tub.

“They’re probably on the lookout to see if we can lead ‘em to the Book,” Dean says, his voice low and wobbly. He tries and fails not to betray how he’s feeling right now – like maybe they can _fix_ this, maybe Charlie doesn’t have to be a casualty of this war against the Mark.

“We won’t lead them to it,” Cas replies, his voice hard. Then he looks at Charlie. “ _Oh_.”

“ _Oh_?” she asks.

“You were _dead_ ,” Dean points out. This seems to shock her and she frowns, like she’s reviewing the last few minutes.

“Oh, yeah, I must have been,” she says, slowly. “That douche _stabbed_ me.” She reaches down and feels at her stomach, lifting the shirt slightly and revealing whole, smooth, unbroken skin. Then she looks at Cas, her eyes wide. “You _healed_ me.”

“I resurrected you,” he corrects her. “Your body was dead and I had to do quick work to keep the reaper from taking you to Heaven. I can’t go there anymore to fetch souls.” And he sounds sad at this, depressed, and Dean _aches_ for him –

“Okay, so we have to put on a show,” Charlie says. She glances around and settles on Castiel’s jacket. “Cover me up with _that_ ,” and she points, ”and put me in a car and let’s get to the bunker.”

“We have to keep ‘em off our scent,” Dean agrees. “Let ‘em think Charlie is dead. Let ‘em think we have one less resource. Let them come to us.”

“They know you’re a hunting family,” Cas points out. “Or if they don’t, they will, soon, because they’ll start digging. They’ll expect a hunter’s funeral. They’ll expect retribution.”

Dean’s expression hardens. “They _killed Charlie_ ,” he said. “I’ll make every single one of those bastards pay for it, I don’t _care_ if you brought her back to life.”

“That’s sweet,” Charlie says. Then she brightens. “Hey! That’s _twice_ you’ve had me resurrected! Don’t think I didn’t know about the wicked witch incident.” And she winks at Dean and he’s so, _so_ glad she’s back. “I’m a real Winchester now!”

Dean stares at her for a second and then laughs. And laughs and laughs and laughs.

 

*** * * * ***

 

They don’t tell Sam until they get back to the bunker. His reactions probably sell it to the Stynes; poor kid looks _devastated_.

And it’s _totally worth it_ to see his reaction when the bundle Cas is carrying suddenly flails, once the door of the Bunker closed behind them, and Charlie crawls out of his arms.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Sam shouts, drawing his gun. He still has puke in his hair and his eyes are red-rimmed.

“ _Hey_!” Charlie exclaims, holding her hands up. “No gun-pointing at friends! First rule of shooters: _don’t shoot your side_!”

It takes about thirty minutes to calm Sam down, and when he finally _gets_ it, that Charlie is _back_ and everything is going to be _okay_ , he throws his big giant arms around her and doesn’t let go for like five solid minutes.

“You have puke in your hair,” Charlie informs him, voice muffled against his chest.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Cas finds a dead vagrant just outside of Lebanon and manages to transform his body to look like Charlie. Dean _kind of_ wants to ask how but figures if he does he’ll have to sit through a lecture on advanced chemistry, so he just kind of leaves it be.

They give the vagrant a hunter’s funeral near where Dean burned Kevin. They even manage to be appropriately sad-looking.

Now that everything’s above-board, Sam even drives out and brings Rowena to the bunker, although Dean’s kind of against this. Then again, the dungeon’s warded to the point of almost rendering her powerless, so there’s that. They chain up both of her hands but promise gourmet food – hey, Dean can provide – if she can get the translation working with the matrix Charlie discovered.

Rowena seems to think this is a pretty good trade, plus she obviously wants to translate the Book for herself, so she gets cracking.

And when they cross the threshold to the bunker again, they start planning.

Because this? This is _war_. The Stynes might not know who they were fucking with _this_ time, but pretty soon they’re gonna find out they’d brought down the wrath of the Winchesters – the ones who prevented the Apocalypse and took on literal _Heaven and Hell_ , together.

They were gonna regret taking one of their own, even temporarily.

The Mark _screams_ its approval. _Blood_. Blood and gore were coming.

Dean smiles.


End file.
